


freaks 'n' geeks

by badAquatic, orphan_account



Series: Trailerstuck [15]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Crimes & Criminals, F/M, Metafiction, Nerdiness, things got really meta in this chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 20:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badAquatic/pseuds/badAquatic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave and Karkat are two teenagers in love...so what does Jade think about this?</p><p>A Trailerstuck Sidestory. Takes place before "caress me down".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. geeks

**== >Jade: Hang out with friends**

 

At the Island of Misfit Toys:

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Are you cheating on Hanael?”

Tavros looks over at you with a smirk. “It’s only cheating if you get caught.”

You frown, “You know he’s dangerous.”

Tavros smiles, showing more of his fanged overbite. “Uh, _duh_ , Jade? That’s the fun of it. I thought I explained this to you.” He casts bronze eyes at Tsuris, “Tsuris, explain to Jade the thrill of getting caught.”

Tsuris stares at Tavros. “Um. I don’t, uh, quite know what you’re talking about…”

You give Tavros a not-so-delicate kick to the robo-legs.

“Leave him alone, Tavros, and you can drop the hoodrat act.” you grumble, “We’re the only people around who are dumb enough to still talk to you.”  

“Um, we are the reject crew…Island of Misfit Toys and all that…” Tsuris mumbles, slurping up more slushie. “Hanging out here with the toys and, uh, the tinkerbulls since no one else wants us.”

Your hangout has always been the old playground on Anderson Road. The playground had been pristine back in the day, when this neighborhood was Beryl Heights. After the last economic bubble-burst, the blue, cerulean, periwinkle, and cobaltbloods that once lived here either sold their houses and moved out to the suburbs or were forced away by the bulldozers. Once they built Blank Park on Kailla Street, this place was forgotten. The jungle gym is now rusted over, the plastic slide has giant holes in it, and the sandbox was a communal toilet for the neighborhood cats. 

 

 

 

You don’t believe in ghosts or any of that nonsense but you’ll be the first to admit the place is a little on the spooky side. Anything brought here was abandoned—from toys, to animals, and simple appliances. Someone even had the gall to dump a broken washing machine in what was once a goldfish pond. The three of you once found a decade’s worth of toys crowded under the broken slide; moldering teddy-bears and dolls missing their heads clustered around candle stubs and withered flowers, like a child’s pagan shrine.   

Thus the three of you named the park the Island of Misfit Toys.

There were stranger things though.

Every now and then, the broken washing machine gargles a moan, like someone was drowning inside. When you were nine, Vriska dared you to go see if there was a monster inside of it. You took one step in the dark muddy water, felt something try to slither up your leg, and ran away screaming. 

Every Eldritch Night, someone places a bouquet of white lilies on the crabapple tree sprouting in the middle of the park. Tsuris once said he heard a low moaning come from where the broken slide and attached play structure was. He said it sounded very painful and very, _very_ unhappy.

You don’t believe in ghosts or any of that superstitious nonsense though.

Tavros scratches a Tinkerbull behind the ears. “Poor little beasts.” he mutters, “Everyone’s always trying to kill or skin them. It’s not their fault they breed out of control.”

“I heard there’s trappers now,” Tsuris says, “They take feral Tinkerbulls, doll them up, and sell them to lusus breeders. It keeps their breeding stock healthy and immune to diseases. Then they dump them back on the street when they’re done.” He looks at you, “Remember yesterday? The girl and her pet lusus Frou-frou?”

Tavros smirks, “What girl?”

You stick out your tongue, annoyed.

“You know how it is, Tavros.” you say, “You could be a rich suburbanite all you want but you still have to go downtown to get your fancy car fixed and detailed. Our client at the garage was some prissy troll girl, and I mean _really prissy._ Like…”

You step away from the rusting play structure you're leaning on and start flouncing around. It takes practice to mimic the dainty gait of someone who wears nothing but high heels but you've spent your breaks during work making the boys at the garage laugh with your copycatting. 

“She walked this, like a little supermodel on the runway. Flounce, flounce, flounce, stop. _Tuuuurn_.” You turn towards Tavros and say in the most posh voice possible, “Excuse me, _sir_ , but could you perhaps tell me how long it’s going to take for you to fix my hovercar? Frou-frou here has a show he needs to get to and it’s _so embarrassing_ to have to use Daddy’s _hovercar_!”

Tavros snickers. Tsuris starts laughing so hard he chokes on his slushie.

You break off into a cluster of idiotic giggles. “Ooh hoo hoo hoo! I’m so pretty and dumb in my Lotakki dress! So, _sir,_ is it possible that you could… _speed_ _up_ the repair? Even a teensy bit?”

You break character and fold your arms.

“Now let’s keep in mind,” you add, “that the bimbo was talking to _me._ ”

Tavros bursts out laughing. He falls over, holding his sides. “What? Oh _gods_! She thought you were…a _guy?_ How? _How_ could she think that? You’re so obviously a _woman_!”

You roll your eyes. “She’s a bobblehead is why, and bobbleheads know _nothing_. All they do is nod their empty heads at anything you say. She probably has a maid that’s been working in her house for ten years and doesn’t know their name or their face. My work clothes are baggy and I was covered in grease but _come on!_ You can look in my _face_ and _tell_ I’m a _chick_!”

“Uh, needless to say, bobblehead bimbo didn’t get her car anytime soon.” Tsuris adds, “Her lusus was a pain though. It was a, um, a dragon lusus, I think. Small. About the size of one of those old timey Chihuahua things. It got all growly and spitty at me.”  

Tavros tries to sit up and grunts. “Cats and dogs are _huff_ considered last century. Lusus are breeding out of control and killing most of them, or breeding with them. In a decade there won’t be any regular cats or _huff_ dogs left. Lusus are more popular and easier to breed. _Fuck!_ ”

Tavros lies back on the ground, grumbling. You sigh and grab the copperblood’s arms. You’re a big girl and you’ve lifted him before. You even carried him around after his accident when he got tired of sitting. With a single grunt, you heft him off the ground. The troll grumbles and steadies his robotic foot on the ground, gaining his balance.

“Okay. Okay, I got it. Let me go now. _Jade. Come_ _on_!” he growls.

You sigh and let him go. The troll wobbles into an awkward stance, “Did you talk to Equius?”

Tavros made a face. “ _Jade.”_

“ _Tavros_! This is a problem and you know it.” You fold your arms, “I know you hate having to ask people for favors, but Equius helped you before when the pain wouldn’t stop. How is this _less_ of a problem?”

Tavros covers his face, “This is, uh…really something I don’t like to talk about; especially in front of the two of you.”

“We’re the only people who know what’s wrong since you don’t want to talk about it to anyone else, not even Equius or another doctor.” you say, “Tavros. It’s nothing to really be embarrassed or… _ashamed_ about.”

Tavros gives a small laugh of disbelief, “Whoa, uh, _Jade_. I think I clearly remember saying I, uh, _do_ _not_ want to talk about this.” His eyes narrow, “Like literally _ever_.”

“So you think fooling around will make it better? Or that it’ll go away on your own?” you ask, “I don’t get why you put up this big front about being so overtly sexual and experienced when you _can’t—”_

“ _Stop it!”_ Tavros snarls, showing you his fangs. You back down at the sight of those large fangs, “What do you think will happen if I admit _that_? I might as well just sit back in that gods-damned chair and have people heaping mountains of their fucking pity on the poor cripple!” He tosses away the watery remains of the slushie and turns from you, “Nice seeing you Jade. Now take all your worries and kindly shove them right back up your ass. I’ve had two lifetimes worth of meaningless pity from e _veryone_ , thank you very much.”

He walks off in a huff, metal legs creaking sharply. You groan.

Tsuris laughs nervously behind you. The emeraldblood mutters,“Well, um, he’s got a serious bee in his bonnet…” He sighs, “Tav used to say that all the time too.” 

“Yeah, I know. It was such a stupid dorky phrase, and that’s coming from _us_.” you mumble, “I miss old Tavros _so_ _badly_. He’s like a different person now after he got his legs. I wish he would just tell somebody what was wrong and stop being so… _embarrassed_ by it. You’d figure his stupid _boyfriend_ would realize something’s _wrong_.”

“Uh, Hanael’s a jerk…” Tsuris mutters, “…all he, um, cares about is himself. Tav only dated him to—”

“—piss off Horuss. I know.” you groan, “Tavros does a lot to piss off his father, not that I blame him for doing that. His father can be an asshole sometimes. We have to figure out a way to get him to admit what’s wrong.”

Tsuris rubs the back of his head. “Jade, um, I know you’re trying to help and all but you, um, can’t _force_ him to admit what’s going on to _anyone_. This sort of thing might, uh, not be a big deal to humans but y’know…trolls are _different_. Trolls don’t talk about things like this. At all. It takes _a_ _lot_ of coaxing to get a troll to admit when they’re hurt or troubled sometimes. That’s why we have moirails. A troll can admit that sort of thing to them.”

You look at him and then look down. Your shoulders sag. There’s a lot trolls don’t talk about. No matter how much their society changes or how liberal they are, their first instinct on seeing someone disabled or in trouble is to ignore it.

“I should get home,” you sigh, “Grandpa’ll start to worry.”

“He doesn’t worry when you’re at the garage.”

“Nah, but he worries about me walking around alone for some reason.” You roll your eyes, “Like someone’s going to pull a knife on the six foot something girl who always has a gun and tools on her.”

“Uh, you’re not that big though. Compared to like a purpleblood.”

You place your slushie on the ground in front of the tinkerbell. The lusus gives a small growl and knocks it over; tail wagging at the delicious sugar-ice. Tsuris continues slurping his slushie. You both walk from the Island of Misfit Toys in direction of your trailers.  

“We’re _all_ small and weak compared to _them._ ” you say.

“Um, Jade?” You look at your best friend of two years. Tsuris shifts from foot to foot, more nervous than usual. “You shouldn’t, uh, talk too much about that girl. The troll one at the garage. It could be, uh, _dangerous_.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well. You know.” Tsuris teeter-totters for a minute before admitting, “I, uh, don’t think her family’s like, morally upstanding. Or something.”

You stare at him. “Say what?” 

“I think, um, her Dad’s a criminal. Like, career criminal.” Tsuris rubs the back of his head, “Okay, so that girl’s Dad comes to our garage right? And he like has us vacuum out his car and wash it and stuff. So, I was vacuuming and what not and I was under the seat and, uh, my horns bumped into the bottom of the glove compartment and, well, something. Sorta. Came. Out.”

“‘Something sorta came out?’ What does that mean?”

“Like, y’know, a box.” Tsuris glances around nervously and whispers, “A box that you’d…put _drugs_ in. If you were smuggling them around and didn’t want, uh, cops to know.”

You stare at him.

“ _Tsuris_ …are you telling me that we’ve been taking _drug money_ from a _crime_ _boss_? How long were you going to keep this a _secret?_ I don’t want thugs in our garage!” 

Tsuris nods. “Yeah, Jade, I know that but…the thing is…can we afford _not_ to take their money? I mean, he’s probably a serious crook if he’s living in the suburbs and afford that car. He’s no guy, um, cooking crystal soporin in his Mom’s basement…he’s the _real deal_. Real Troll Godfather type deal.”

You grumble. You hate dirty money but Tsuris is no idiot, at least on the business scale of things. Refusing the thug’s money meant you knew it was dirty and it meant you were the sort of person who didn’t keep their nose to the ground—like every other drudge in the garage. 

Plus…you _loved_ that hovercar; loved every godsdamned things about it. It’s embarrassing as all get-out to admit it but you really _loved that man’s hovercar!_

It was a luxury car, with bulletproof doors and windows you helped install, with motion detectors, built-in GPS, air-pressure stabilizer for higher altitude travel, engine boosters, and the best stereo system money could buy. You washed it. You polished it. You looked at that car with the same loving sigh a fangirl would over Troll David Bowie no matter how old the glam-rock star got. That hovercraft was a wrench wench’s _wet dream_. The girl’s father may be a crook but _damn_ he had nice taste. 

And the man liked you, as much as a purpleblood of that standard of living could like a human. He liked you working on his car. He liked how you never swore and stayed polite in his presence. Yes, sir. No, sir. Car’s done, sir. Here’s your receipt, sir. He always tipped extra because of how courteous you were.   

You grumble, “I must be dense as a rock. I should have known a purpleblood who can afford that car _had_ to be a criminal.”

“Hey, there are plenty of purplebloods with respectable businesses.” Tsuris counters, “Like the guys who own the bars and night clubs.”

“The _strip_ clubs you mean, where they exploit warmbloods and all the prostitutes hang out.” 

"Point taken."

The two of you stand at the crossroads of Kailla and Neiro Street. You both live in opposite areas. Tsuris’s trailer is not even ten feet away from where you stand.

The emeraldblood looks at his trailer, squinting. “My front door’s open again...”  

You frown. “Were you robbed?”

“There’s nothing worth taking.” he says, “I think my Dad wandered off again.”

“Do you…want me to help you find him again?” 

Tsuris shakes his head, “I’ll leave the lights on. He’ll find his way back home. All those chemicals they put in his brain makes it not…work right all the time but, uh, he always finds his way home…after he’s been who knows where.”

If Tsuris is a puppy, then his father is a mangy dog who had rabies eating away his brain stem. He’d wander off at random and come back whenever he felt like it. One time Tsuris said he smelled like a sewer and wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d crawled into a storm drain or fallen into the deeper parts of the swamp. If it was indeed the swamp, you wonder if the feral lusii took one look at Tsuris’s father and just skipped him over. 

You nod. “Okay, I’m heading home then. I’d invite you in but…you know my grandpa.”

Tsuris smiles, “Yeah, and, no offense to you, Jade, but I’d rather _not_ get my horns shot off.”

“I can’t blame you. It’s not like the NJPD would do anything about it. See you later, Tsuris.”

The troll waves to you as you walk off. 

* * *

At the Harley Trailer:

 

Your grandfather is sitting on the porch. You’ve given up trying to convince him that he doesn’t need to protect the trailer while you’re out or wait for you to get back. From the time you go to school to when you return from the garage, your grandfather is always waiting on the porch for you.

You smile at your grandfather, “Hey, grandpa. See anything interesting today?”

Your grandfather’s eyes are focused on the road. “He came by again today.”

You frown slightly, “You mean Dave’s dad? Jake?” Your grandfather doesn’t respond.  “What’s your problem with him anyways? Is it ‘cause you wanted to be the only Young British guy in the neighborhood?”

You say the latter with a chuckle but there’s no humor in the air. Your grandfather looks at you. His green eyes are hard, “I haven’t been Young British in a decade. _True_ Young British never leave the isle, even for business.”  

“So why’d you leave?”

Your grandfather stands and walks to the door, “I didn’t feel I was bringing any honor to the Young British any longer, so I left to begin somewhere anew.”

You don’t question your grandfather when he’s in his more puzzling moods. You’ve learned it’s better to just leave him be. Your grandfather may be Young British born and raised but you’re a New Jack City girl. You never developed the taste for your grandfather’s old-isle cooking, never enjoyed Earl Grey tea when you could have Faygo, never ate scones when you could have churros, and never liked YBBC’s Doctor Who when Breaking Bad was on NJMC.

You go to your bedroom, carefully stepping over the outstretched vines from your small hydroponic garden. You go about your evening routine: watering and checking on your plants, looking at the status of your Land on World of Skaianet, and check any updates on Trollbook. You browse your dashboard on Trollumblr when your Trollichum app flashes. You love your version of Trollichum—Trollichum Enamel—which looks far better than the old version.   

 

 

 

\--tentacleTherapist began trolling gardenGnostic!--

TT: Hello, Jade. Are you there?

GG: hey rose!! :D  

GG: what are you up to?

TT: Putting the finishing touches on English exam paper and then returning to study for Algebra, as that is the possible leak in the dam that prevents me from being on the Honor Roll.

GG: does your mom even care if youre on honor roll? :P

TT: No, but it matters to me. If I can have it on my record that I’ve been on honor roll since Sophomore year, it will be easier to get into the college of my choice.

GG: where are you thinking about going?

TT: I’ve thought about getting my basic Associates at New Jack Community College before moving onto New Jack University for my Bachelor and Masters’s Degrees in Theohorrorcratic Studies. I’d also like to publish my fiction in-between that time, as possible supplemental income.

GG: oh you mean the one you sent to me?

GG: it was good rose!!

TT: It needs editing, I believe, but your interest is appreciated, Jade. How are you doing?

GG: im doing fine

GG: my trollumblrs getting a lot more followers than i ever thought it would :)

 

Of course you wouldn’t dare tell Rose that the reason your Trollumblr is getting so many hits is because it caters to a certain interactive webcomic with a cult-like following…and you draw illicit pictures at the request of followers. On the plus side, your art’s really improved since you’re practically drawing every day!

It’s horribly embarrassing to admit to some of the things you’ve drawn though. You’ve gone out of your way to distance your old deviantART page from your sordid Trollumblr blog.

 

GG: i think im prepared for exams week heh

GG: just spending friday night with the guys at our usual place

TT: Have you seen Dave’s Trollbook?

 

Your fingertips pause over the keyboard. Of course you saw Dave’s Trollbook page; the picture of the lean human snuggling a certain chubby, grey alien who frantically tries to take the camera away from him. It’s just like Dave to take pictures of his bedmates when they’re trying to sleep or in the middle of doing something. 

GG: yeah

GG: what of it?

TT: So, it doesn’t bother you?

GG: well thats stupid to ask

GG: i mean no offense to you rose but i think its obvious it would sort of bother me

GG: but its not like im going to run over to his trailer screaming how angry i am about it

 

Angry doesn’t fit the situation there though. “Jealous” definitely does or maybe “hurt”, but you have a little too much pride to type that. Instead you add,

 

GG: and im not going to type up like an anger paragraph on trollbook or harass karkat or whatever

GG: i might live in a trailerpark but i like have some level of class above some aniline end troll

TT: Humans live in Aniline End as well.

GG: what kind of human would live there? :/

TT: Prostitutes and addicts with xenophilic preferences I would imagine.

TT: It’s just that I know you’ve had feelings for Dave since you were young but neither of you can seem to properly ‘click’ or that you know how to ‘click’ and enter an actual relationship. Watching you two interact is like watching a bird give a mating display to a stuffed mannequin.

GG: ugh

GG: please do not mention stuffed mannequins

TT: Why not?

GG: just dont

 

You are not about to go into the oddness of Young British people or your family traditions; at least not while you’re in this mood.

 

GG: listen i know dave and i are weird around each other

GG: but i dont want to be a jerk either

TT: Jade, you’re not a jerk.

TT: You’re just young. We all are. Relationships are complicated for all of us and we’re going to make mistakes.  

GG: yeah but if im gonna make a mistake id rather it be about something well all laugh about in like two years like when you used that dead baby pig as a marionette and its kidneys and stuff fell on the ground and everybody threw up including the teacher and the trolls

TT: I was trying to lighten the mood since Dave and you were so upset about the dissection.

TT: Apparently I failed to do so and caused a calamity of retching.

GG: at least we didnt have to do it anymore after that :/

TT: But to return to the original topic, I know you think Dave can be emotionless at times but he means well. He just has trouble expressing his feelings. He can be insecure too.  

GG: i dunno

GG: maybe its for the best that we didnt get together

GG: i mean if hes into short chubby and harmless hes got that down pat with karkrit or whatever that fine. im pretty much the opposite of that anyways

TT: Oh Jade. Don’t put yourself down.

GG: rose. cmon.

GG: im a giant. compared to daves new grey pet im goliath to chubby david.

TT: That doesn’t make you unattractive and you know Dave likes you the way you are.

GG: the only time weve ever had sex is when we had a few drinks in us

TT: Pardon me for asking, but how far have you even gone?

GG: about as far as john and you

TT: So not very far at all even under the influence of alcohol.

GG: how far are john and you then? >:)

TT: Recently, we haven’t done anything. John is preoccupied with his theatrical ambitions and keeping his energy up. I’ve only spoken to him online for this past week.

GG: awww :(

GG: john doesnt mean to be a neglectful dumbass. hes just gets caught up :(

GG: hes going to kick himself in the pants later for this

TT: It’s alright. I’d rather have John ignore me doing something he loves and then lavish me with attention later, than have John ignore me doing something illegal and then continue to ignore me afterwards.

GG: john really does love you. hes too much of a dork to be scumbag. :P

GG: like if he really wanted to be a scumbag to someone hed probably screw it up.

TT: He can act like a convincing scumbag on stage though, when the moment calls for it, but at his core John cares about all of us.

TT: So what about Dave and you?

GG: i dont know!!

GG: i dont really know rose. :(

GG: daves happy i guess. im not gonna wreck whats going on with him. i screwed up so now im just gonna deal with it.

GG: ill find someone else to date. new jack citys a big place.

TT: Like your emeraldblood friend?

GG: oy. rose no. not you too. tsuris and me are friends. :(

TT: Dave seems to think you are more than that.

GG: no im like his moirail i think.

GG: we just talk a lot and we go on wos raids sometimes and do online rpgs.

GG: we run an ask blog on trollumblr.

GG: we’re just friends. 

TT: An ask blog?

GG: oh, it’s a homebent roleplaying thing.

GG: you assume a characters identity and then you run a blog and ask questions in character. we both really like this character called the beckoner whose like a goblin ancestor and the post-scratch version of a another goblin character that hasnt show up in canon yet. 

TT: Post Scratch?

GG: oh uh, its a weird plot thing.

GG: sorta hard to explain at this point.

GG: but it all makes sense in context really!!

TT: I’ll take your word for it.

TT: At least you’re preoccupying yourself.

GG: you should read it! i think youd like it rose. it has a lot of interesting characters and stuff.

TT: How long is it?

GG: umm…sorta long.

GG: there’s a lot of games and texts and event movies and stuff too. the music is also pretty good.

TT: If I have time I’ll read it.

GG: its not a big deal if youre not into it.

GG: i asked john to read it but he didnt like all the time shenanigans and stuff in it and he thought the first act was really boring.

GG: i had to keep telling him the goblin characters dont show up until later.

TT: The…goblin characters?

GG: well theyre really popular and its all everyone draws fanart of, though i dont blame them. the goblin characters are fun though i prefer the troll characters.

TT: Are there any humans?

GG: uh. sorta. maybe.

GG: theres a fanon running around that goblins are troll-human hybrids cause the creator of homebent is married to a troll and the goblins have human and troll traits.

TT: Sounds like something out of a terrible fanfic.

GG: it is a little strange but i cant blame him. it must be hard on a couple that cant have kids. :(

TT: What kind of troll is he married to?

GG: i don’t know. i think it’s a cerulean. im not sure but i know shes a little on the heavy side.

TT: I hope you’re still working on your school work while getting involved in this fandom.

GG: i am working on it!! geeze. just cause i like one webcomic doesnt mean i abandon everything else going on. 

 

Another window opens up in your Trollichum. You open it while Rose is typing.

 

 

\--hoodieWolf[HW] began trolling gardenGnostic[GG]!—

HW: Jade jade jade

HW: Upd8

HW: And hells to the fuck yeah it’s a game this time.

GG: omg?! really?! :D 

GG: im so excited!!

GG: i knew itd be a game.

HW: Im already playing it. You get to play as the winged goblin. Ah whatshisname.  

GG: Haneem?

HW: Yeah haneem. Irefefs pre scratch ancestor who is considerably more awesome than irefef was.

GG: aww dont say that! :(

GG: everyone knows irefef went off the deep end once he killed nadire and xullos. hes just a kid. people forget that the goblins are like 14ish despite how violent they act. he was acting out of anger.

GG: too bad ayanak killed him… :(

HW: Though it was awesome. Ayanak is a bamf. Im glad hes alive again and not a rainbowdrinker anymore.   

GG: wait a minute youre playing the game right now?

GG: what about your dad?

HW: Im waiting in the living room. Hell come back when hes hungry. I have to rest and eat too. 

GG: do you think he wandered away far?

HW: I dont know. People dont really bother trying to mug him since he never has anything of value on him.

GG: maybe you should take him to the doctor. there could be something seriously wrong with him.

HW: Uh jade my dad was in the jangles. You know what happened to trolls during that war or civil conflict or whatever theyre calling it now.

HW: His brains fried to hell and back. Theres no fixing him. Just have to sort of deal with it.

GG: i know.

GG: im sorry.

HW: Its alright jade. :)

 

There are a lot of veterans and soldiers still in service that live in the trailer park. You know Equius’s father was in a few skirmishes himself and came out shell-shocked. It’s harder for trolls to admit they’re damaged but you know the war in Southern Bojangles “The Jangles” took a toll on everyone involved. You know the military kept the trolls on the ground while the humans were in the hoverships. From above, the military rained down chemicals to defoliate the tall trees and give less cover to the enemy.

Soporific chemicals laced with who knows what. You try not to think about it. You’ve seen far too many addicts where you live. You go back to the Trollichum window with Rose.

 

TT: I know I sometimes come off as a pest but I do have concern for my friends; all of my friends. You’re my only female friend after all.

GG: oh rose its not a bother :)

GG: its nice to have someone fuss after you sometimes

 

Something you wish Dave would do if you were honest. You used to enjoy hanging out with him but it was hard to tell how he felt about you, or a lot of things. Often, it was like you weren’t even in the room. You couldn’t tell if he had a crush on you or if he was just stringing you along because you looked good standing next to him; like all the other gawky girls who liked him.

At least you knew he was interested now—interested enough to try and rouse your jealousy with a troll that apparently turned into a serious ‘thing’. 

And you honestly don’t know how you feel about that.

 

GG: can i be honest with you rose?

TT: Of course, Jade.

GG: sometimes i wish i was a troll.

GG: with all their quadrants and sections to push stuff into.

GG: maybe itd be easier to figure out how i felt about dave.

GG: and why we cant really click no matter what either of us do.

GG: like if we were trolls maybe wed make a better kismesistude or something since all we ever do is fight when were around each other.

TT: Jade, that’s not an unusual sentiment in this day and age but the grass is always greener. Trolls have their own complications even with quadrants. There are trolls that envy humans for their lack of complicated romance where everything blends together. Kanaya, for one, prefers human-style romance because there is no dictation of who has to belong to which quadrant. 

TT: Dave and you have feelings for each other but I think you two haven’t reached the right ‘point’ on which to connect and now you feel anxious because that moment has possibly been lost since Dave has found a boyfriend.

GG: yeah…

GG: i feel like i screwed up big time and its really bothering me.

TT: Jade, we’re all still young. Things change. People break up, make up, and other things fall into place.

TT: Is there anyone else you’d like to date?

GG: i dont think so.

GG: at least not right now.

TT: There’s no hurry to date. The pressure to ‘pair off’ during this time of our life mounts and then lets off. It’s better to be focused on your career. Just because everyone else is dating doesn’t mean you have to. You have a close friendship with someone and often it’s the platonic friendships that can be the most meaningful.

GG: yeah

GG: you’re right rose :)

TT: In layman’s terms “You’re a strong independent woman don’t need no man”.

GG: yeah!!

GG: you’re right!!

GG: im going to go play cod and show those noobs whos the boss instead of worry about some guy!

TT: Have fun with that, Jade.

GG: i will!! :D

 

You’re going to enjoy yourself so much you’re going to bring new meaning to the word ‘fun’. Homebent’s latest Flash update adventure will have to wait. You’ve got n00bs to snipe and own in Condescension of Duty. 


	2. freaks

**== >Rose: Work on Algebra **

 

You really would love to do that but you’ve found yourself suddenly distracted. Your favorite online magazine Squid Pro Quo (which focused on the topics of ancient mythology and esoteric xenopagan religions, including your favorite topic the Noble Circle of Horrorterrors) had updated with an article about some ruins discovered in the Summersend Archipelago by a famous white carapacian archaeologist W.Q. You had been talking to Jade, doing your usual role as psychologist to your friends but now she's been inspired to go off and sate her virtual bloodlust.

You don’t know how you feel about psychoanalyzing those around you, but you feel that someone around here has to get people to open up. You’re one of the few human families in this neighborhood and despite all the unfortunate xenophobic implications of the next statement—you would prefer to not lose complete social contact with your fellow humans.

You ponder over this sentiment, just as someone contacts you on Trollichum. Oh. It’s John.

 

\--ectoBiologist began trolling tentacleTherapist!—

EB: hey rose

EB: whats ‘cis’ mean?

TT: Cis? In what context?

EB: someone at dress rehearsal called me it under their breath

EB: and it didn’t sound like a compliment

TT: Upon googling the term (something I recommend you do next time, dear), I have found that: “Cis-” is a prefix of Latin origin, meaning “on the same side [as]” or “on the side [of]” with several derived usages.

TT: Though I think the usage you encounter relates to gender studies, “cis-“ in this situation referring to someone who is cisgender or cissexual.

EB: cisgender?

TT: It means that your perception of your gender matches your biological sex. In this example, you are biologically a male and therefore identify as male.

TT: Recently, being called cis in this day and age can be seen as something derogatory as most ‘cisgendered’ people are misconstrued as being social conservatives, homo- or transphobic.

EB: really??

EB: oh for fucks sake

EB: what is the big deal with me not being gay?!

EB: why do i have to be gay or trans or bi to be considered interesting or something!?

TT: I think before you continue, John, you should stop and consider the employment field you are currently pursuing.

EB: not every guy that acts is gay or bi!

EB: whats wrong with being a regular straight guy who likes goofy movies and acting?

TT: I think your crossdressing on stage can send the wrong signals to some individuals in your acting troupe.

EB: yeah but that’s theatre! that’s all part of the show! that’s not *me*!

EB: and whenever i tell people this they never believe me!  

EB: and maybe one day i might like wearing dresses, well what’s the big deal then? i’ll still be straight as a ruler i think.

EB: i just don’t see the appeal of men and i think people don’t get that. they keep trying to find excuses or finagle ways into thinking i’m gay or maybe if the circumstances are right i’ll kiss a guy and like it or something.

TT: Heavy is the crown of popularity, I fear.

EB: you’re telling me.

EB: i keep telling them i have a girlfriend but they never listen.

TT: At least you’ll be done with it soon. 

 

You honestly don’t care.

This is the first time John’s talked to you in two day’s times and it’s always about his concerns and needs. You know your boyfriend can be a little—oh fuck it, he’s _more_ than a little self-centered at times. You sigh and settle in for the long haul of “Yes.” and “I see.” while he gets this off his chest. You sigh and look at your Trollichum, seeing who’s online right now. Sadly, no one of interest. Kanaya’s handle is greyed out so she’s either invisible or busy, Dave is busy, and Jade is now offline. You sigh and go to your email, seeing if anyone sent you kudos or commented on your fanfiction. If not, maybe you’ll work on the next chapter…

You find a perplexing email in your inbox. You’re not familiar with the address but it seems too formal to simply be designated as spam. It simply says “Concerning your scholarship” and was from a “Mr. V”.

Curiously, you open it. Its contents are brief and its text a light grey hue that you must highlight to read properly. It states,

 

Greetings, Ms. Lalonde,

 

I am a representative of Lil’Cal Pictures Scholarship for Youthful Brilliance. I have been monitoring your academic progress carefully and wish to speak to you in a more rapid-pace manner if you wouldn’t mind. I find it easier to get known possible candidate for a full academic scholarship under less formal circumstances.

If you wish to contact me, please address the Trollichum account “scratchDoctor”. I am currently unlisted for matters of business and privacy.

 

Sincerely,

D. Scrate

 

At the bottom of the letter is a logo you’re familiar with—an outline of a rosey cheeked puppet with a backwards cap that you’ve seen on a variety of films and TV shows before its start and during the credits. You recognize it from Lopan Street, Exile Rock, and the first films that come to mind are Labyrinth and The Dark Crystal.  

So…this may be the actual thing if this watermark is to be believed. And he has been observing you? For how long? You’re not sure if you’re flustered or mildly unnerved. You check back in your Trollichum window and—yes—John is still talking on and on about how things were at dress rehearsal. You skim his paragraph, popping in an “I’m not sure I understand but do go on” for good measure, before opening another conversation window.

You debate about your action right now. You should be paying more attention to your boyfriend instead of talking to a strange—man? woman? human? troll?—who may or may not be who they say they are.

It couldn’t possibly hurt to check it out though. It’s not like you have anything better to do right now than listen to John whine and if it turns out to be a sham, you can just block him and perhaps report him for fraud.

Oh well. Here goes nothing.

 

\--tentacleTherapist[TT] began trolling scratchDoctor[SD]—

TT: Hello there.

TT: My name is Rose Lalonde. I received your email and I wish to know more about this scholarship.

SD: I would think you wish to know more about the legitimacy of my claims, from how you write things, young lady.

 

The response is surprisingly immediate. The text is white though and this you find incredibly strange and frustrating as you highlight it.

 

TT: Pardon me, but why is your text…white?

SD: I abhor color.

SD: It can be changed for your ease though, if you would so recommend it.

TT: I would prefer not to have to highlight every word, if you would not mind.

SD: Not at all.

 

The text changes to a lime green that is just as hard to see.

 

TT: That is honestly no better.

SD: This is one of the few colors I do not abhor. My apologies.

TT: Oh, go back to the white. At least it wasn’t appalling.

 

The text changes back to white, this time with the addition of black brackets. Why is he (she?) doing to you? Is this a joke or is he simply a crackpot? 

 

SD: [Perhaps these brackets shall make the task of highlighting much easier.]

TT: How are you doing that?

SD: [I am quite prolific with computers.]

SD: [It is a necessity in my line of work, I believe.]

TT: If you are who you say you are.

SD: [What motivation would I have to lie to you?]

TT: This could be some ornate prank orchestrated to have me waste my time fulfilling academic scholarship that does not exist or you could be acting the part of someone involved.

SD: [I believe a quick venture in a search engine would prove my story checks out.]

SD: [Though you will be hard pressed to find pictures of my person.]

TT: Why?

SD: [I value my privacy.]

SD: [In this age of information overload and ever-flowing data, such a thing is a great luxury, wouldn’t you agree?]

SD: [Wouldn’t you believe that a man of true status would keep his affairs and true appearance to himself at to avoid harassment?]

TT: It is probable, but it does not lend credibility to your story.

SD: [Perhaps not but I am only stating the truth of my situation.]

 

You do google the scholarship and his name though. The scholarship is well known—a lump sum awarded to female students who excel in the fields of History or Literature, especially if it pertains to ancient cultures, religions, and xenoanthropology. Essentially, you’re in the clear being interested in Theohorrorcratic Studies—a field that is a combination of all three.

You even find a picture of the previous winner of the scholarship—a rustblood wearing a green school girl’s uniform. Is that Young British? You’re sure it’s Young Britain that has the dark green uniforms for their students.

However, you find searches for a “D. Scrate” to be considerably more difficult. You find no pictures available or even an individual Wikipedia page. He is listed under Lil’Cal Pictures with a small biography that raises more questions than it answers.

Once again you check in with John. He’s still talking about dress rehearsal. You pop in a “Oh really? What happened that?” and then return to the window full of white text.

 

TT: You are a puppeteer?

SD: [I was.]

SD: [I was hired as a puppeteer for Lopan Street when the show first began airing on PBS. That is why there are so few pictures of me. At that time, they didn’t want to film or photograph us puppeteers because that would ruin the magic for our child viewers. I was very masterful in my talents though, but my passions lied outside of puppetry and in the boardroom of Lil’Cal Pictures.]

SD: [Puppetry is still my passion though.]

TT: You were the original puppeteer for Lil’Cal on Lopan Street?

SD: [That I was.]

SD: [I was his movement, his voice, and his personality. I even prepared the woman who would take my place as Lil’Cal’s next puppeteer; my protégé if you will. Soon she will take on another protégé and then another and so it will continue. For as long as there is a Lopan Street, there shall always be Lil’Cal and his various colorful friends like Oskarr the Grouch and Big Big Beakbeast.]

TT: You make it sound like he was your child.

SD: [I was the first to give him life, so in some way there is a relation.]

TT:  If you were the first puppeteer for Lil’Cal that would make you quite old.

SD: [It would put me at least into a century and a half of age. Are you confused by this?]

TT: Not really. It would be xenocentric of me to assume that you would be human, as there are plenty of trolls in the entertainment industry due to longer lifespans among certain hemotypes. Troll David Bowie is pushing his second century after all.

TT: There are no photographs of you easily available online and you seem to be focused on isolation and privacy, so it is my theory that you are a coldblood and perhaps a traditionally-raised troll, which would explain the preference to sequestration.

SD: [You would be correct on the latter part. I was raised in a more traditional matter.]

TT: Obviously, you are not traditionally minded though.

SD: [Not in the slightest. Why would I offer a non-species specific scholarship if my traditional beliefs held me to prefer trolls over other species?]

TT: You have a gender and age preference though.

SD: [What would make you assume that?]

TT: This scholarship only pertains to females or those who identify as females within the age range of sixteen and up. Some of the previous winners were transsexual females.

SD: [That is true, but it does not mean I have preference. If I am indeed a troll as you suspect, you would know gender matters very little to us.]

TT: Gender matters to some trolls; they just have a different definition of it than other species. Even trolls have labels for male and female but there’s nothing in traditional Alternian culture indicating they have a concept of ‘intersexual’ or something in-between those two genders, at least not in the same context that humans do. There are trolls who do not identify as male or female, or as both, but that would be going by the troll standard of gender, not human standard, and therein lays the great confusion about trolls and gender that must be translated for humans.

SD: [What an astute observance, but I wouldn’t suspect less from a girl in your environment. You are immersed in trolls and their behavior.]

SD: [What college are you thinking about applying to?]

TT: I’m not all too sure…

 

You smile. This man may be a crackpot and a possible fraud but at least he’s entertaining to talk to. He doesn’t mind your dialogues about xenosociety and even seems to have a few strange passions of his own. Even if he’s a shyster, he’s so far been more courteous.

Uh oh. Your other window is flashing. You sigh and look back to the other window.

 

EB: rose?

EB: hey rose.

EB: rose, whats wrong??

EB: shit did you leave or something?

TT: Oh nothing. Just busy with schoolwork you know.

TT: Algebra.

EB: am i bothering you?

TT: Only mildly, but all social interactions can be a bother with exams coming up. I know you must have a lot to get off of your chest.

EB: well i was asking you if you wanted to do something this weekend

EB: if you have the time

EB: saturday’s busy for me but sunday’s fine

TT: You go to church on Sundays, John. Or did you forget?

EB: awww crap you’re right…

EB: uh, maybe you could stop by after?

 

The last thing you want to do is go by John’s house and have to put up with another heated glare from Ms. Egbert. You look back to the other flashing window.

 

SD: [Ms. Lalonde, if you would not mind, I’d prefer a meeting; in a public place of course. It is rare that I get an opportunity to stimulate the more contemplative part of my mind in conversation.]

TT: You live nearby?

SD: [I own various properties on a variety of islands, although I am a citizen of Young Britain.]

TT: I’ve never met a Young British troll before.

SD: [We are a rather reclusive sort, Young British humans and trolls alike.]

TT: So I’ve noticed from the few immigrants we have here, but I’m in New Jack City.

SD: [I know. I own some property downtown. I would like to meet you at the Central Library. When would the best time be for you?]

 

You don’t even hesitate to answer.

 

TT: Saturday is fine for me. Sunday too.

SD: [It is a date then. I look forward to our meeting.]

 

You quickly respond to John,

 

TT: I think I should start working on my homework.

TT: Good luck with your play though, John. I’ll be there in the audience cheering you on.

EB: alright rose. <3

 

You’re relieved when you close his dialogue box.

You spend the rest of the night studying for Algebra and exchanging quips with D. Scrate about Theohorrorcratic Studies becoming less dominated by religious crazies concerned with cults and attracting the interest of legitimate historians and xenoanthropologists.

You’ve never had so much fun online in your life. 


End file.
